


Kind of Pushed Kind of Bent

by Zee (orphan_account)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Butt Slapping, Dom/sub Undertones, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Face Slapping, Frottage, Light Bondage, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Spanking, Tentabulges, Troll Culture, Xeno, bound hands, legislacerator LARPing, references to canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 13:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/913903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Zee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She probably doesn’t even know the particular context of slapping a human on their butt, it’s not like trolls have parents, yet she’s still doing an eerily good job of playing along with the scenario. (Or: the one where Dave gets spanked.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kind of Pushed Kind of Bent

**Author's Note:**

> Title from "Down Boy" by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. Thanks to Diatomatic for the beta.

Of course you’re the one who starts it, and of course it starts as a joke, a role-playing situation taken just a titch too far. You’re playing the convict and Terezi is the legislacerator, and this is at least the fourth time you two have played this out, and you’re a little bored of it but you don’t have the heart to tell her that. Terezi seems to be having as much fun as she always does, all deadly serious in justice mode, her mouth a thin line and her nostrils flaring to sniff out your deceit, which you think is really just an excuse for her to press her nose up against your shades. (You would never tell her this but whenever she does that it’s fucking adorable.) She’s trying to get you to reveal the location of the hostages--troll criminals don’t take hostages, because why would anyone care about the potential death of civilians? But ever since you explained the concept to Terezi, she’s fallen in love with it, and your roleplays now always include lavishly gruesome accounts of the hapless innocents who’ve been murdered so far. 

You’re on your knees with your hands bound behind you, so when you give a cheeky response to one of her questions and Terezi slaps you, it’s difficult to keep your balance and you teeter sideways. It’s not the first time she’s slapped you as a legislacerator and you’ve never really minded, but it’s different when your hands are tied behind you--there’s no way to really brace yourself for it, and a rush of panicky adrenaline hits you because you can’t defend yourself, even though you don’t actually want to. 

Basically it’s kind of alarming, and who the fuck knows why but some dumbass subconscious part of you takes those tinkling alarm bells as a signal to grin wider and tell her that you’ll only spill on the location of the three remaining hostages if she lets you pail her waste chute while her lusus watches. Mission super fucking accomplished: she backhands you this time, sending you sprawling. 

And, huh, you are definitely starting to pop a tent in your god pajamas, which is... new and interesting. Usually roleplaying with Terezi ends with you getting sentenced to death, and then at the last minute you narrowly avoid the harsh noose of justice when a Scalemate takes the fall for you, and the scenario generally devolves into you and Terezi fucking around with chalk in Cantown. Sometimes she’ll lick your cheek afterward, if her interrogation has required slapping. But even with the slapping, you’ve never thought of her roleplaying as, like, _sexy_ roleplaying; the few times sex has been on the table in your relationship, there’s been no funny business introduced to said table, in fact the table has been located securely in a bedroom with the door locked and a soundtrack of carefully-selected mood music playing with no one tied up and both of you rarely more than a few seconds away from dying of embarrassment and awkwardness. 

In short you’ve never gotten hard for Terezi while sprawled in a random lab room that anyone could theoretically walk into, surrounded by dragon plushies with your hands tied behind your back and a look on your girlfriend’s face like she’s calculating how much more she’ll have to slap you around before you give. 

You shift onto your knees, shoulders and cheek to the ground because you can’t push yourself up on your hands. “Oh no Your Honor, please don’t hit me again!” you say in your best falsetto, and you expect Terezi to complain that you’re breaking character. 

Instead she smacks your ass, hard enough to really sting.

Who the fuck knows if this is Terezi being weird for her own unknown reasons or Terezi seeing if she can freak you out, and if it’s the latter then like hell you’re giving her the satisfaction of not going along with it.

"What on Earth--! Objection your honor, this is depraved,” You say, your falsetto turning into more of a cracked squeak. For a second you’re worried that throwing in an ‘objection’ will actually make her take you seriously and stop, so you push your butt up towards the ceiling in what you can only hope will be taken as an eager manner, and she slaps you again. Harder this time, enough to elicit a shocked intake of breath from you, a noise that some people might interpret as a gasp.

You hear her shuffle closer, sitting up on her knees behind you and to your side, just outside of the edge of your peripheral vision. Her bony hip presses against the edge of your thigh. The closer I am the better to spank you my dear, and oh jesus your hands are tied up and Terezi is spanking you, this is a thing that is actually happening to you holy fuck. 

“Objection overruled," she says, and you maybe had half a chubbie before but damn, now your dick is really intent on growing the distance. 

"You should take my pants off," you say in your own voice, and she snickers and slaps you lightly on your thigh.

"Quiet! Criminals are not allowed to speak!” There’s something growly and guttural in her voice, something pretty obviously not human, and it raises hairs on the back of your neck. It reminds you that actual murder was involved in the roleplaying she used to do before you met her, and weirdly enough reminds you of Karkat’s dumbass warning not to get swept up in her ‘assassination games.’ It should be the world’s biggest deterrent. You press your cheek against the cold concrete floor and let her tug your pants and boxers down to your knees.

“Dave,” she says, squeezes your ass and oh fuck, claws, not enough to scratch but enough to make all your nerve endings pay rapt attention. “You have been found guilty and you need to be punished.”

You can’t help but groan at that, embarrassingly loud. Jesus, she probably doesn’t even know the particular context of slapping a human on their butt, it’s not like trolls have parents, yet she’s still doing an eerily good job of playing along with the scenario because she’s Terezi and she’s terrifying. She spanks you again, and on your bare skin it hurts so much worse, and then she does it again and again without giving your skin any time to recover and you cannot _believe_ how incredibly fucking much this is doing it for you. 

She pushes up your shirt and you feel the weight of her leaning on her back, her claws dragging against your ribs as she moves them back down to your hips. You want her to touch your dick so bad but it’s almost better that she isn’t, the deprivation somehow makes it sting even worse when she slaps you again. Her palm hits your leg this time, because she can’t reach your ass when she’s practically lying on top of you like this, and it’s not like you don’t want her to smack you anywhere and everywhere, but--

“Nn, can you--it’s better the other way,” you say, and you can feel your face going red but thankfully Terezi gets it, she doesn’t actually make you utter the sentence ‘Can you focus your attention on smacking my ass instead of anywhere else please,’ and she growls hot breath in your ear and shifts and hits you hard enough that you actually hear the whistle of her hand swishing through the air before her palm connects. 

You can see her out of the corner of your eye, trying to shimmy out of her pants one-handed while her other hand continues to spank you, rhythmically without pause. The skin of your ass is starting to feel hot and tender, and when she demands that you spread your legs you do it without hesitation to give her easier access, and when your neglected boner finally receives some much-needed attention you’re expecting her other hand, but instead--

Your whole body spasms and you can feel your wrists straining against the ropes. Terezi’s bulge is wet, is the thing, and colder than you might expect, and you had no idea that it was prehensile enough to wrap around your dick like this. It feels better than anything so slimy has any right to, both squeezing your dick and rubbing up and down against it; from the way Terezi’s pumping her hips behind you, it seems like she’s getting off on the friction as much as you are.   
It’s fucking unreal. Getting jerked off by your maybe-girlfriend’s tentacle dick somehow makes the realization that _holy shit you’re having sex right now_ hit you like a ton of bricks. It’s not the first time you’ve had sex (it’s the fourth time--even though you’re not keeping count god dammit because that would be such an uncool thing to do, it’s just that you can’t imagine sex with Terezi ever being unremarkable enough not to warrant remembering how often it’s happened), but it is the first time it’s felt like this: urgent, natural, not-awkward and without anyone fucking it up by thinking too much or coming in their pants (which was you the first time, and her the second). 

And the fact that for once you’re not nervous, not tense, not fumbling and it’s because she’s been spanking the hell out of you--jesus, what’s wrong with your brain?

You’re distracted from your own dismay at what your crank chooses to be turned by when you feel the flat of Terezi’s bulge press against your balls. You’ve never had sex with a human girl so maybe that would feel just as strange, but this seriously is like--it’s so fucking alien, and you want to reach down and wrap your hand around your dick and hers together, but your wrists are still tied. 

“Dave you are just--you’re so--” Terezi says, her voice breaking when her bulge twists against your stomach. She spanks you again. “You smell _so good_ ”

"Ngh--yeah Terezi thanks, just don't stop--"

She doesn't stop, and somehow all of it--the ache in your cramping shoulders from having your hands tied behind you for too long, the bruising on your knees, your forehead hurting where it's been pressed against the floor--combines with the way your ass feels when she smacks it to bring you closer and closer to coming. It's not the pain that does it--well, it _is_ the pain, but it's also how Terezi makes you feel like you just have to lie there and take it until she's done with you, oh god. Her left hand grips your hip, her claws just barely breaking the skin, and her right hand keeps hitting the same painful spot again and again without the blow ever softening. Her bulge is thick between your legs with the tip curling itself tightly around the the head of your cock, and it’s like she’s taken your free will and absconded with it and you fucking never want her to give it back.

She leans over you and licks a stripe up the back of your neck, groaning into your hair. She slurs incoherently, “You taste amazing, Dave, you’re candy,” and god her obsession with red blood is so creepy and wonderful and it makes you laugh even when she’s smacking your ass and rubbing one out against you. 

You think about the image the two of you must make: your bare ass red from getting hit, your thighs slippery and green from the alien sex fluids produced by Terezi’s genitals, and her bulge entwined with your dick and pressing up against your stomach. You think about how possessive she must look, her hand gripping your hip tight and her body hunched over you while you’re all tied up and helpless, you must look like you’re completely hers, and the thought sends you over the edge. You come all over her bulge and all over yourself and when you stop shaking you are seriously fucking sore all over.

You’re now lying in a pool of teal, so while you were busy losing your mind, Terezi must have come too. She sags against you for a couple of beats before abruptly moving away, and her absence means that the air is suddenly cold against your exposed ass and your softening junk. You manage to flop onto your side and then your back, and man you would appreciate it if Terezi could untie you now that sexy times are over, but you can still feel your pulse throb at the base of your dick and your head is muzzy from the orgasm, so you’re not super in a hurry.

“Wow,” you tell the ceiling. “Spanking, huh. Not a thing I knew I liked before today.” Terezi doesn’t interrupt you, so you keep talking, covering up the conspicuous sound of how hard you’re both breathing. “This meteor is like a veritable fountain of self-discovery. Maybe tomorrow I’ll discover that I’ve actually been repressing my hardcore appreciation of Matthew McConaughey my whole life and all those times I made fun of John for liking him were just the lady doth protesting too much. And yeah Rose, I know that using ‘doth’ in that way makes no sense, it was in service of the joke, and anyway shut up you don’t get to correct my grammar when you’re not even in the room.”

You take a breath and contemplate an alternate universe where you don’t ruin the afterglow of any orgasm given to you by another person by embarrassingly rambling like a moron. What a great universe that would be to live in. You wish you could be this magically non-afterglow-ruining Dave, that Dave sounds awesome. Yeah.

It takes a second for you to realize that Terezi isn’t saying anything in response, that she hasn’t said a word since she climbed off of you. You twist your neck to look over at her, but her back is to you and her shoulders are hunched.   
That familiar ‘oh shit’ refrain finally manages to push its way through the fog of your post-sex stupidity. You have fucked this up somehow, and Terezi won’t look at you.

“Terezi? Hey, um... you okay?” You knee-walk over to her, and she flinches away when you try to bump her shoulder with your own. 

She starts, like she had forgotten you were still there, and when she glances down at your bound wrists she looks crestfallen, fucking devastated, and then her claws are scrabbling at your hands, she’s slicing through the ropes to free you as fast as she can. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, muttering it over and over like a chant. “I’m so stupid, I hurt you and I’m sorry, I should never have--I’m so sorry.” 

You can’t handle hearing Terezi apologize for you, not for something that felt so good, so right. It pretty much makes you want to throw a tantrum about how wrong it is. “Hey, what, no,” you say, pretty much as awkward as it’s possible for a human to be. “You don’t have to be sorry for that, it felt good, I mean it hurt but it was what I wanted, and... I mean, wasn’t it what you wanted too?”

She finally turns to face you, and you can’t tell a god damn thing about what she’s feeling because of her fucking glasses. It gives you a pang of sympathy for everyone that has to deal with your own opaque ass. “Yes! That’s what’s terrible about it, that--I deliberately hurt my matesprit. I’m a monster.”

You gawk. You know it’s a completely inappropriate reaction, but it’s a fucking struggle to keep from laughing, because what? Seriously what? “Uh. I thought we were both crystal fucking clear on how I was asking for it and how it made me come my brains out? So, uh... how does that make you a monster?”

She grimaces, her face twisting up like you’ve been stabbed and you seriously can’t stand being the one to put that look on her face, it makes panic rise up in your throat. “I hurt you,” she insists. “I caused you pain while we were pailing and I did it because _I wanted to,_ don’t you get that?”

“Yeah, I mean, I was there,” you say, feeling like you and she might as well be speaking two different languages for all that you’re understanding each other. You want to reach out but you’re not sure that she would react well to being touched right now. “That was kind of the point? I was into it, man, I wanted you to.”

“That doesn’t matter! It shouldn’t have been what I wanted, I should never have--” Terezi stops, rubbing her hands over her face in frustration. “Augh. Figures you wouldn’t get it. I should go.” 

“No, stay,” and your voice sounds so small and pathetic to your ears. “Look I’m sorry I don’t get it but could you at least try to explain it to me? I mean damn, I thought that a species that actually required hatesex for reproduction would be down with some kinky shit.”

Terezi gives you her version of an incredulous stare, which involves her flaring her nostrils as much as possible. And then she starts laughing and laughing, going into some hardcore hysterics, and oh no you’re pretty sure that she’s laughing _and_ crying now--

“God, you don’t know anything,” she says. “It’s expected to do this with a kismesis, you’re _supposed_ to hurt a kismesis, that’s just natural. But I don’t hate you, and so--” She stops, taking in a deep shuddery breath, and for a few long moments you think she’s not going to say anything else. 

“The thing about quadrants,” she says, and you suppress a groan. Fuck, you hate lectures about quadrants, but obviously this has her pretty upset which means you’ve been a fucking idiot to not pay attention to this shit in the past, so you shut up and listen as hard as you can now. “Is that they’re supposed to be about expressing different facets of your personality. The caliginous quadrants allow you to get out your aggression and and anger in a way that doesn’t result in needless violence and damage. Caliginous relationships provide that outlet, which is very necessary as a troll reaches adulthood.”

“But the red quadrants--” She breaks off, and the objective tone of her voice is gone. Now she sounds like she’s pushing each word past a lump in her throat. “Having a matesprit or a moirail should be about nurturing,” she says. “It should be about letting yourself be kind and good to someone and giving pleasure instead of pain, but _I hurt you_ , and that means the part of me that can be kind to someone must not exist--”

“Whoa, hey, it’s not like you caused any lasting damage, I’m still in one piece here, see?” But she’s not even listening, big fat green tears are dropping onto her shirt and this has become so extremely Not About You that you know she wouldn’t be seeing you even if she weren’t blind.

“Vriska was my best friend and I killed with her and then I tried to kill her and then I actually killed her,” she says, bitter and shaky. “Killing was all I had to offer, I couldn’t help her, couldn’t--and then there’s _you_ and I’m flushed for you but I’m still causing pain, it’s like it’s all I’m any good for--”

That’s it, you can’t keep your distance anymore. You try to pull her in for a hug but she pushes you away, snarling. “No, leave me alone! You’re not my fucking moirail, I don’t want that and I don’t deserve it.”

“Oh my god, I have no interest in being whatever that is,” you say, and for just a second you wish passionately that you could just like an awesome girl and kiss her without having to constantly navigate an alien culture and bullshit quadrants and PTSD and painful ethical quandaries over murder and mortality. But the wishing doesn’t last because this is Terezi and you wouldn’t actually have her any other way. You stop trying to pull her in for a hug but you stubbornly leave your hand on your shoulder, giving comfort whether or not she’ll actually take it. 

“This is a human thing, okay? Humans are allowed to give hugs and cuddle even when they’re having sex with the cuddlee--actually, especially then. And I’m not going to just leave the room while you’re all crying and miserable, that would be upsetting as hell for me, so even if I can’t say anything to convince you that you’re totes not a monster, can you please just let me freaking be here for you at least?”

She hesitates, but gives you a stiff nod, and you cautiously put your arm around her. She turns her face into your neck, getting your skin wet with her tears, and it makes your chest feel all funny. 

Also, you have just remembered that your pants are still bunched up around your knees and that your dick and balls--now encrusted with drying spunk both alien and human, lovely--are still exposed. And there’s no way to discreetly pull your pants up without ruining the hug that Terezi has reluctantly allowed you to bestow upon her. Dammit. You are pretty sure that you’re terrible at this, and that ‘this’ encompasses everything.

You press a kiss to the side of one of her horns. “For what it’s worth, I don’t feel like you were hurting me just now,” you say, as gently as you can. “In fact, if anything that was actually pretty kind and nurturing of you, since you were giving me what I wanted and, uh, sorta making all my dreams come true and stuff.” Not that you have ever fantasized about someone spanking you before, or um. Not that you would ever admit to that, at any rate. “And while this probably means fuck all coming from someone who never even met her, I don’t think you’re a monster for killing Vriska. But hey.” You touch your fingers to her chin and lift her face so that she can look you in the eye, at least metaphorically.   
“I _can_ definitively say that what we just did together does not make you a bad person. You’ve only ever been good to me, okay? You’ve been the best, Terezi.” 

You are hardcore blushing from pouring your heart out like this, but you shut your mouth and refrain from disclaiming your statement re: the bestness of Terezi with an ironic joke. From this close, you can see through her glasses enough to see her blinking. She doesn’t seem to be crying anymore, and her deep heaving breaths are calming down, becoming more even and less panicked. She rubs viciously at her wet cheek with one hand and leans back away from you, but she doesn’t push you away completely, which thank god because you really want her to stay close. If she needed to go off and cry by herself then you’d let her, but it would fucking suck. 

The pause gets drawn out long enough for you to start feeling kind of like a doofus, and then she says,

“Thanks,” sounding just as awkward as you feel, and you are relieved that the person you’re sweet on feels just as weird about big displays of emotion as you do. 

She makes a face like she can tell you’re laughing at her on the inside, and leans in to kiss you, for once being gentle about it and keeping her teeth in check instead of making you feel a little like a(n adorable) shark is nibbling at you. You kiss her back and let her pull you into her lap, your naked bits nestled comfortably against the warmth of her shirt. 

You really hope that eventually, she’ll be okay with the concept of roughhousing during not-hatesex, because you’ll be kind of bummed out if this was the first and last time you’ll ever get to experience Terezi slapping you around. If there ever is a next time, maybe you can convince her to spank you over her knee, perhaps while you’re wearing a short frilly dress. And pigtails, is your hair long enough to put into pigtails? Shit, if this is a thing that you’re apparently into then like hell are you gonna half-ass it. 

But you guess you can keep it vanilla until Terezi’s convinced that she’s not a puppy-killer or something. To be honest, you don’t really care what kind of sex you have or even whether or not orgasms are involved at all if she continues to let you touch her hair and her horns and kiss her like you mean it. 

She breaks the kiss to lick your cheek, and you are never gonna be able to not love it whenever she gives you a random licking, it’s your fucking favorite thing, like the ultimate signal that the girl in your arms could not be anyone other than Terezi Pyrope. 

“You’re sticky and you smell like genetic material,” she says, and you grin like a loon.


End file.
